Page 107 of Heart & Hope

“To the people we love!” The crowd responds in muddled strains as glasses clink.

Reed stabs the succulent-looking turkey with the knife, and guests clink their glasses again, taking another drink. Removing the tray and the divine-smelling white meat, the servers return to the kitchen to plate up. Entrées on ornate round silver trays come forward on servers’ upturned palms as they weave through the barn and set them down on the tables.

The warm bread rolls and churned herb butter are heavenly. Small skewers of grilled meats and tiny pies with marinated winter veggies make it to the top of my list for cowboy entrée options for future reference. Every part of this meal was designed to appeal to the cowboys and local folk of Lewistown. For the guests, this means they truly discover this part of the west through the sights of the ranch, the people they meet at the dinner, and the food that is locally grown and loved.

It’s an authentic ranch experience, albeit a little more upmarket.

An elegant twist on the meat-and-three-vegetable diet these country folk are used to. And by their reactions to the entrées and the barn, it’s a winner.

After dinner and a luxurious trio of desserts, the music kicks up a notch and guests head for the bar. Harry and Louisa are the first on the dance floor. Who knew?

Reed wraps an arm around my shoulders as his parents move across the parquetry dance floor Hudson installed. They’reamazing, twisting and turning with the rhythm of the song. Harry has some serious moves!

“Bet you never would have guessed the old man can dance?” Reed whispers, his breath sinking into my hair.

“Wow, look at them go. That must be so much fu?—”

Reed is out of his chair and pulling me from mine a second later. I stumble to catch up as we step onto the dance floor. “Reed, I can’t dance.”

“I got you, baby. Follow my lead.”

He pulls me into his arms, and we are moving with the tune. His cologne is intoxicating. My heart races as I glance up to the cheekiest smile stretching that gorgeous face. The song fades out and “Lovin’ on You” by Luke Combs starts up.

The air turns electric as people make their way to the dance floor. Reed takes my hands, spinning me around a full turn until I am back against him. But someone taps his shoulder, and he spins back. Harry winks at me.

When Reed steps away, he grins and salutes with two fingers on his forehead. I huff a laugh, and Harry has me in his hold a second later.

“You dance, Ruby?”

“Ah, a little.” I grimace.

“Hold on, darlin’, just follow my lead.”

Like father, like son. Before I have the chance to catch my breath, he has me swinging out by one hand. When I roll back in, he grabs my hand and we are skating across the dance floor on quick feet, a sharp turn, and back the way we came. A ridiculous laugh bubbles up my throat. I snag a glance at Reed and Lou. They wave. But I’m whisked off balance, and I trip trying to keep up. Harry rights me in no time with strong hands and a direction change.

I feel left behind, and I hate it.

Listening for a few heartbeats, I make out the rhythm and match his pace. When he sends me spinning, I meet his intensity. The second my hands land in his, I give him a smile, but it’s all cheek, and he grins back with a chuckle. “Let’s see what you got, Robbins.”

I match him, step for step.

Turn for turn, skip step and sharp turns, backward, holding his hands to my side as we walk forward. I spin before we reach the end, and he tosses his head back with a laugh, the way his sons do, and folds me back into his hold on my return.

“Checkmate, Harry.”

“You got it, darlin’.”

Something like adoration and pride mix through the light in his eyes. The song starts to wind down and Harry moves closer, two-stepping around in a tight circle. I do the same and study his face that has now faded to something more somber.

“Thank you for believing in him, Ruby.”

The air leaves my lungs, and I press my lips together, hoping the emotion that clogs my airway doesn’t show on my face.

Harry dips his head a little. “This version of the ranch, Reed’s life, is better for it. Louisa and I want you to know that.”

I open my mouth to respond, but the song ends, and I can’t form the words I’m desperate to say.

Like, maybe it shouldn’t have taken a complete stranger to figure out ranching wasn’t something Reed wanted. Or maybe that’s exactly what it needed. An outside perspective. Someone without stakes in this family’s life and business.

---